


Handle with Care

by annabagnell



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Birth, Labour, Lactation, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnancy Kink, erotic birth, multiple pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:26:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabagnell/pseuds/annabagnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's five days overdue with Sherlock's twins when he finally goes into labour. It's not easy, this giving birth thing, and he requires a bit of interesting help from Sherlock to make it through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handle with Care

**Author's Note:**

> This work was the result of a delicious RP with hotbisexualarmydoctor. It includes a lot of erotic birth (and, obviously, mpreg) so if it's not your thing I'd suggest you leave now.  
> And yeah, we know it's a bit unrealistic at times. This whole AU is unrealistic, dealwithit.  
> Edit: I keep finding little errors, things I missed when I was editing. This was an RP that happened over Skype, so not all the things got caught as I was copypasting. Sorry!

John couldn't remember ever feeling so miserable. The babies were five days late now, and the still growing children inside of him were making a point to torment him, stretching out and shifting, and having no room at all to do so. Sitting on the chair, shirtless and caressing his impressive mound, John sighed heavily, which itself was an effort with the size of his womb constraining his lungs slightly, and glared at Sherlock, stupid, thin, not-pregnant Sherlock. "Sod this. Sod this; I'm having a C-section. Take me to the hospital."

"John, they won't let you have a C-section until you're a week late, they've told you over and over." Sherlock rose from his seat and walked over to kneel in front of John, laying a cool hand on John's massive belly, which was shifting under his palm. "I'm sorry you're so miserable, but they won't do anything about it yet."

John scoffed and pressed his hands into his belly, rubbing it intently. "Come on, you two, settle down, you're _killing me._ ” He blew out a breath when the ministrations seemed to become less frequent. "Sherlock, I want this to be over. I just want them out of me. I--" John hissed and arched his back, pressing a hand to it behind himself.

"John? John, are you alright?" Sherlock slid his hand back to where John's pressed, rubbing gently as the man whimpered in front of him. "What's wrong?"

John's brow furrowed and he blew out a few deep breaths, his toes curling in response to his tightening back. He made a small whimper as the pain released and stared at the floor. "I... That might have been..." He met Sherlock's eyes and blinked, realizing what the pain meant. "I'm-- contraction." He said lamely.

"Contraction?" Sherlock repeated, hand stilling on John's back. "You think you're in labour?" The detective moved both his hands to rest on John's belly, which was suddenly still.

John sucked in a shaky breath and nodded. "I think so, yes. I hope so. That was a lot stronger than the Braxton Hicks..." He explained, stroking his hands down his belly. "Maybe. I... Everything's ready, right?"

"Yes, the bag's been packed for weeks. Are you...should I call for a cab?" Sherlock patted anxiously at the big belly sitting in John's lap.

John blew out a nervous breath and shook his head. "Ah... No, not yet, let's just make sure it is what I think it is. Besides, we agreed I'd labour here, didn't we?" John grabbed Sherlock's hand and brought it up to his cheek, rubbing against it affectionately. "Just relax, all right? Just, let's take it easy."

"Right, right," Sherlock murmured, caressing John's cheekbone with his thumb. "You were the one wanting a hospital two minutes ago," he mumbled quietly, but he smiled and sank to the floor beside John's chair. His head rested against John's belly, gently expanding and contracting as the man breathed. "I'm here if you need anything," he said softly, turning his head to press a kiss to the stretched skin.

John snorted in annoyance. "I didn't mean it. I'm just losing my patience with waiting on these little ones." John sighed and stroked a circle in his belly where a foot was slowly poking out. "You're just gonna stay down there, then? Making sure they don't fall out instantaneously?" He smirked fondly, looking down at Sherlock.

Sherlock smiled. "I might've deleted some things about pregnancy, but I know there's a fair bit more work needed before they just 'fall out'." He laughed. "I want to be close to you, but the chair's not big enough for two and I doubt you want to move all that badly. So I'm content here."

"Yeah, sorry. These two've got me pinned to this chair." John patted his stomach fondly and reached a hand around to stroke Sherlock's curls. "If I really am in labour, you do realise it's going to take a little while, right?"

"Of course. Are you trying to get at something?" Sherlock frowned a little and shifted, turning so he was facing John with his knees pulled up to his chest. "Do you need something from me?"

"I..." John blushed. "Within the day, we might be parents. And we won't have a lot of time to be just us," he explained, shifting a little as he started to get hard beneath his belly. "I want to enjoy the time we've got left."

"Enjoy, you say?" Sherlock prodded at John's belly as the man flushed with arousal, realising what he meant. "I see." He rose to his feet with a small noise of effort and straddled John's legs, leaning down over the big belly and kissing John. "What would you like me to do?"

John was already panting in arousal, the moment Sherlock sat upon him. He licked his lips and kissed his mate again, pulling back to stare at his lips. "I... I want you. I want you to pleasure me. Please?"

"Of course." Sherlock pondered for a moment on how best to bring his mate the pleasure he wanted. His belly sat heavy on his lap, obscuring his cock from view and contact. If he could get John standing, he would be able to suck his prick from below, but he wasn't certain John could stand for that long with his cock in Sherlock's mouth. He decided the best thing to do was ask, make sure this was what John wanted. He relayed his thoughts to his mate and leaned down to kiss the vein-riddled skin of his belly as he waited for an answer.

John licked his lips in thought and squirmed a little more. "I can stand. Get me to the kitchen, I can brace myself on the counter."

"As you wish." Sherlock grasped John's arms and pulled the man to his feet, putting a steadying hand on his back and leading him gently to the kitchen. When they reached the worktop, Sherlock dropped to his knees beside his mate and teasingly tugged at his pyjama bottoms, tickling the base of his belly.

John gave a soft giggle as he pressed his palms onto the worktop, looking down at Sherlock over his belly. "Get on with it, you prat," he ordered playfully. One hand reached up to cup a breast, which was feeling a little full and starting to sag. He usually only needed to pump once every few days, but it'd been at least a week since the last time. "And...maybe you can take care of these, too?" John asked tentatively.

"Of course." Sherlock grinned, pulled the pyjama pants down around John's ankles, and licked John's cock from base to tip. He had to twist his head slightly sideways to avoid bumping his head against John's pendulous belly, and he contorted inventively to continue. From root to tip on the bottom, then reverse on the top side, nose buried in the musky curls for a few moments before he trailed his tongue up the dark line that stretched from John's groin to his protruding belly button. 

Sherlock spent a few minutes fucking John's navel with his tongue, hands rubbing at the tight join of skin to thigh where the curve of John's belly met his body. When he felt John's hips start to stutter, he continued his path upwards along the dark line, finally reaching the man's chest and nipping at the engorged flesh. He had mercy on his mate then, ducking to pull the hard nipple into his mouth and _suck_.

God, it had felt fantastic to have Sherlock's tongue on his cock. He groaned and writhed, panting his mate's name over and over. But that felt like nothing compared to when the consulting detective made love to his _belly_. The licks and kisses were perfect, making John cry out and whimper in need. "Y-yes, God, fuck, Sherlock..." John bit down hard on his lip once Sherlock reached his nipple and gave an enthusiastic suck. Instinctively, the omega cradled his head, as if to put it in a proper position for nursing, but mostly to keep those fucking excellent Cupid's bow lips from leaving his nipple. He already felt relieved as the milk streamed into Sherlock's mouth, and he squeezed the other to get it stimulated and ready. John's breath hitched though when he felt another pain in his back, producing a moan that was different from pleasure. His face contorted in discomfort, but he kept Sherlock's head firmly in place, needing him to keep going.

Sherlock could feel the tightening of John's belly and back as he sucked, but John's insistent pressure on his skull kept him drinking through the spasm. Trying to distract John, he made quiet mewling noises each time he swallowed, wondering if mimicking a baby would make John let down his milk faster. He rubbed at John's belly with the hand closest to it, alternately drumming his fingers and scratching lightly at the sensitive skin. John's milk was sweet and warm on his tongue, and thicker than he'd imagined, and each swallow sent a mouthful of heavy liquid into his stomach.

The contraction let go and John panted roughly, moaning out as Sherlock drank from his breast. He threw his head back and his cock gave a jerk, feeling his milk drop heavy in his breasts as Sherlock snuffled and mewled like a baby. That breast quickly emptied, and he waited for his mate to switch to the other, and his hips stuttered. "Touch me, touch me, I need you t-- aghhn, I'm already so _close,_ Sherlock..."

Sherlock let out a moan as he switched to the other full, heavy breast, and as he started to suckle he gripped John's cock and began to stroke slowly. He timed each pull with a swallow of John's milk, teasingly running his thumb over the head of his leaking prick at the end of each down stroke. Oh, his stomach was full, smarting uncomfortably as he swallowed, but he was going to empty John's breast before he sucked the man off. He broke away from the nipple with a gasp, and rubbed at his own taut tummy. "Oh, John. So full of your milk, so heavy." He rubbed his belly against John's for a few moments, rutting his erect cock against John's thigh.

John could feel Sherlock's tight belly brushing up against his own, and he groaned in pleasure, watching the two meet. He still had a little left in his breast, just a few swallows he could feel, and he _needed_ to come, he couldn't wait any longer. "Sherlock! Ohhhh!" John thrust his hips up into his mate's hand and held his breath, on the brink of orgasm but not quite spilling over just yet. "Rightthererightthererightthere," he chanted.

Sherlock dropped to take the nipple once more, and sped up his strokes as he felt the last of the milk empty into his stomach. He deftly switched hands, the left now stroking John's cock as the right ghosted across the sensitive skin of John's belly, out, out, out until he brushed and then tweaked the tip of the giant globe, the rounded, protruding knob of a navel that stuck so proudly out from John's belly.

John felt so good it hurt. Though that could have been the fact that he was in labour. He rocked his hips frantically, gasping as he was right on the cusp of finishing. He felt Sherlock drain his milk, and felt more than relieved, and cried out when his mate gave a small tug on his sensitive belly button. All of these sensations together finally made his hips stutter, and John came hard with a strangled cry, releasing onto Sherlock's hand and the bottom of his own belly.

Sherlock stroked John through his orgasm, ceasing his rubbing elsewhere so as to avoid making John oversensitive. As John's cock went limp in his hand, his knees did as well, and Sherlock hurried to support the doctor lest he fall. Ignoring his own throbbing prick, Sherlock led a wincing John back out into the sitting room and laid him on the sofa, doubling back to grab a tea towel and clean the spunk off the man's belly before it dried. His stomach protested violently when he bent, and with a grunt Sherlock dropped to his knees and clutched his bloated belly with one hand as he wiped John off with the other. "Better?" he asked, running a hand over John's rotund belly.

"O-oh, God..." John moaned, letting his head lull back, staring up at the ceiling with his eyes glazed over with lust. "That was fan-fucking-tastic," he breathed, a hand stroking the top of his full belly, feeling a foot prod him, the babies becoming just a bit more active than before, due to his post-coital blood pressure. John finally looked back down at Sherlock with a small smile, still panting a little. "Thank you. That was great. How was...?" John gestured to his chest awkwardly.

"Thick. Sweet. Warm. Oh, dear god I'm full," Sherlock moaned, rubbing his tummy. He lethargically undid the straining buttons on his shirt and trousers, letting his belly sag outwards, and patted it, wincing. "And I'm hard as a rock." His cock was pushing at the waistband of his pants, the head of it peeking out against his taut skin.

"Oh," John breathed, looking down at both Sherlock's member and belly. "Leave us to be randy when the little ones are under way." John shifted himself, a hand under his large belly for support, and reached over to tug at Sherlock's pants and trousers. "Allow me to help. Please." He licked his lips, and then hissed again, another pain striking his abdomen. "Eighteen minutes," he murmured.

Sherlock reflexively reached to rub John's back, murmuring soft words through the spasm. "You don't need to, not if you're in labour. That'd be a bit unfair on my part."

John took a deep breath and shook his head. "No, no, Sherlock, I... I want to, please," he begged. John attempted to crawl forward with a few grunts, kissing Sherlock on the lips. "What do you need?"

John seemed insistent, and though he was concerned that John was in labour it was obvious the man wanted to take care of Sherlock's erection. "Hand or mouth, either. Hand's probably easier." He pushed his trousers and pants down his thighs and spread his legs, kissing John in return.

John shook his head and gave a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, I can't quite reach with my mouth," John reached over and started to stroke Sherlock's prick, the other hand rubbing smooth circles into his own belly. He knew his mate liked looking at it, so if he brought attention to his stomach, stroking it in an intimate manner. "How's that?"

"Mmm," Sherlock hummed, watching John rub his enormous belly. It made him harder, if that was possible, and he laid a hand on his own distended abdomen, feeling lethargic in his arousal and the fullness of his stomach. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, switching his gaze from John's belly to look into the doctor's eyes.

John licked his lips and stroked a hand down his middle enticingly, his fingers bumping over his navel. He pumped Sherlock more quickly and smirked a little. "Thank you. But look at you, all... aroused and slim, and nimble..."

"I like you heavy, round and full with our babies, oh," Sherlock pumped his hips upwards into John's hand. "Like to see you waddle, hear you grunt. So... _ripe_ , so full, gorgeous." Sherlock rubbed his tight tummy earnestly, eyes glued to the movement of John's hand on his belly.

John gave a soft moan when Sherlock started rubbing his stomach, and his back arched slightly. "You like this," he repeated. "Well, enjoy it while you can. I know you'll miss it... when the twins are here..." John groaned a little, sliding a hand under his belly and lifting it up a little, to make it look rounder.

"Oh, how can you _do_ that, John, you're ah-ah-ah, so heavy," Sherlock moaned, his hips stuttering and thighs trembling as his pregnant mate stroked him. It wouldn't take long; imagining John's belly growing before his eyes was pushing him all too quickly towards release.

"Yes," John concurred, arching his back and pushing his belly out with a grunt. "Yes, I'm so very heavy, so full, the babies- the babies are so big. They're ready, Sherlock. They're going to be here very soon, because they've got no more room in here, I'm stretched to my limit." John stroked him even more quickly, palm pressed firmly to his balls.

That was all it took, the mention of John stretched to his limit, full to the brim with babies and Sherlock was tumbling over the edge, coming and shouting his release as he spilled over John's hand.

John smirked a little when he felt Sherlock's seed seep down his hand, and stroked him through it. He brought his hand up and licked it obscenely, then bit down on his knuckle, his back spasming yet again. "God..." He muttered, sliding a hand down his gravid abdomen. "S... Sorry... Mood killer... Mnn..."

Sherlock heaved a few breaths, hearing John's words of discomfort through the fog of orgasm. His brain took longer to process it than usual, but he snapped to when he realised why John was grunting. "It's alright, ssh, it's okay." He slid across to curl next to John, rubbing gently at his hard belly and kneading at his lower back. "Can I help?"

John shook his head. "No, no... I'm... I'll be fine." He assured lamely, taking several deep breaths. "I... Can we move to the bed? I want to lie down," he suggested, reaching to squeeze Sherlock's hand.

"Yes, of course." Sherlock reached behind John and gently pulled the man to his feet, and waited a few moments to ensure he had his balance before leading him slowly to the bedroom. Much as he loved watching John waddle, his pendulous belly swaying with each step, he hated to see the man in pain.

John heaved himself onto the bed and sat up, rubbing at his large stomach. "God," he groaned. "I don't think I'll be moving for quite some time," he explained, leaning back on the pillows. His stomach rubbed up against his cock, making it twitch in interest again, but luckily it was hidden under his belly. "Thank you. For being so... cooperative."

"How couldn't I be?" Sherlock responded, and crawled onto the bed beside John, curling around his still tight belly to be as close to John as he could. He could see the quiet movements of the children his mate bore, gently pushing out against their too-small home in protest of the Omega's clenching muscles. "Your skin looks dry," he remarked, scratching lightly. "Would you like me to rub some lotion on it? Might make the pain a little more bearable."

John nodded. "That might be nice, yes," he conceded. He rubbed his hands down his belly, wincing at the small kicks and movements as the babies prepared to shift downward.

Sherlock hummed softly as he slid off the bed and headed to the bathroom, rummaging around in the cupboards until he found a bottle of lotion. He poured a small bit onto his hands as he climbed back up onto the bed and straddled John's legs, letting it warm before he started to spread it on the globe in front of him. He smiled softly as John's dry, tight skin sucked up the moisture and left a slight sheen on the big belly.

John sighed, letting his head fall back, and his hands to the sides. Sherlock's hands felt good on his skin. He felt warm and protected, and knew he would be fine once all was said and done. John let his hands rest over his mate's as they rubbed. "That's good, thank you." He didn't feel so embarrassed about his need to be touched anymore; Sherlock was being so great, and giving him what he needed. John licked his lips and laced his hands together on his chest.

"Whatever I can do to help." Sherlock smiled and looked up from beneath his curls, pressing quick kisses to John's belly. He gently encouraged the man to lie back as much as possible so he could moisturise the bottom of his stomach, riddled with purple stretch marks. "They've done a number on you, haven't they?" he murmured, working at the tight muscles where the belly joined with John's pelvis. He noticed John's semi-hard cock as he massaged, but decided to let it be unless John asked for something specifically. He knew the man's belly was sensitive, and that the rubbing might well have inadvertently turned him on.

John laid back, allowing the skilled hands to massage his underbelly. The touch was sensitive, making his cock twitch, and he bit back a moan. John's fingers gripped at the sheets, and he stared up at the ceiling. "Yes. Yes, they have. I'm glad they're deciding to make their way out now. I'm ready to meet who I've been carrying around for the past three quarters of a year."

"Me too." Sherlock patted John's belly as he finished working the lotion in, and helped pull the man back into a semi-sitting position. He slid back up the bed and pulled John's shoulder to lean the Omega closer to him, and kissed the man's blond hair. "Anything else I can do?"

John licked his lips and shifted, giving a slight gasp as he contracted again, arching his back a little. "I... Mngh. No. Just." He couldn't get out a full sentence, moaning through the spasm at first, and taking deep breaths through the rest. "'M fine," he strained, his toes and fingers curling. "Oh, God, this one's... bit bad..."

Sherlock slid his hand into John's, hoping to ease his burden even just a little. He split his time between watching John's face contort in pain and seeing how the shape of his massive belly changed as the muscles tensed, forcing their babies toward the birth canal. He murmured soft words of encouragement into John's ear, his nerves lighting up with anticipation for the first time.

John huffed through his mouth and gave Sherlock's hand a squeeze. He let out a shout as it ended and let his head lull onto his mate's shoulder. "They're... they're moving down. I feel it, they're..." John took the alpha's hand and pressed into his very low underbelly, so Sherlock could feel the outline of a skull. "Just there. And...the second twin's..." he moved his hand up closer to the top of his mound, "here. Little brother or sister's there."

"Oh, god." Sherlock exhaled, pressing his hand against the bulge of their baby. "You can...feel that. Wow. That's...wow." He cracked a wide smile, looking at John in awe. The man was panting, obviously still uncomfortable, but Sherlock was amazed.

John gave a weak laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, they're on top of each other. They can't be any more comfortable than I am right now." John blew out a breath and steadied his breathing, sighing into Sherlock's neck. "The contractions are closer. Just a little over ten minutes," he explained. "Might be sooner than we think."

"Good, good." Sherlock rubbed John's shoulder, feeling how tense he was. "Let me know if you need to change positions, I don't want you to be any more uncomfortable than is absolutely necessary." John's belly was still now, the muscles of his uterus tight even outside of contractions.

John nodded. "I think I'm okay for now. Thank you." He pressed a kiss to Sherlock's neck and sighed. "I'd just like to rest for a little while. You'll stay, won't you? Don't leave, I just. Want you close."

"Of course, John." He laced his fingers with John's over top of his belly. "I won't leave. I'll be right here, the whole time. I promise." He smiled gently, running the fingers of his free hand through John's short hair. "I promise."

* * *

 

John panted heavily as he writhed in bed. The sheet below him was drenched with sweat. It had been several hours that he'd been in bed now, and the contractions had been at five minutes apart consistently for two hours, and didn't seem to be escalating any quicker. The babies seemed to be becoming annoyed and impatient that they weren't coming out, and were kicking against his already tortured belly. His water still hadn't broken, either. John moaned pathetically, on the verge of tears, and finally accepted what needed to happen. "Sher-- Sherlock, you need to... You need to break it, the amniotic sac, it... please. They're stuck, Sherlock, they're stuck and I can't do anything, just..." John whimpered and pled desperately.

"Okay, okay, John, just give me a moment, okay? It's going to be fine, okay?" Sherlock ran out of the room and returned with one of Mrs Hudson's sharp-pointed knitting needles. He doused it in sanitising alcohol and dried it quickly before kneeling between John's spread legs and prying the lips of his perivaginal slit apart. "Hold still, love, please," he said quietly, and as John's hips stilled he slid it in alongside his finger. When he felt his fingertip touch the elastic sac, he pressed the needle in with his other hand until he felt the thin tissue rupture and drench his hand as the fluid rushed out. He withdrew and dried his hand quickly on the stack of towels beside the bed.

"FUCK!" John shouted as the sac ruptured. There was no spongy buffer now, and his stomach deflated some. "Oh, God!" John was in an intense amount of pain, panting with wide eyes, since his water broke unnaturally, but it needed to be done. "God, Sherlock, ah..." He gripped the sheets, the pain starting to lessen. "Hurts... Hurts..." He complained, tossing his head back and moaning.

"I know, I know," Sherlock replied, grasping at John's hand. "Tell me what I can do to help." He was worried - this was taking much, much longer than it should be. "Is everything okay, or should we call for an ambulance?"

John thought a moment and shook his head. "No, no, I... I think that might have helped." He did feel like some of the pressure was relieved, now that the pain of his water breaking was receding. "That helped, yes." John ran his hands over his stomach and blew out a breath. "I... God, distract me."

"Distract you? How...how do you want me to distract you?" John was in labour, there wasn't much Sherlock could do to keep him otherwise occupied. It was rather a full-time ordeal.

"Touch me," John ordered, feeling his cock twitch with interest. One of the babies had shifted down and was pushing onto his erogenous zones, and he couldn't help but become hard. "I need to come," he panted, his toes curling.

"Oh. Oh, okay, I can..." Sherlock reached under John's belly and found his prick, which sure enough was hard and leaking. He stroked awkwardly, wrist bumping against the bottom of John's round stomach with each upstroke. "Is this okay?"

John nodded and moaned, his toes curling and back arching enthusiastically. "Yes, yes..." John panted, and then cried out as his stomach went to steel and contracted. He rubbed at his belly to try and ease the pain, attempting to focus on the pleasure instead.

Sherlock stroked faster through the contraction, trying to give John enough pleasure to override the pain gripping his middle. He turned John gently to the side, hoping it wouldn't hurt the man too badly, trying to make it easier to reach his Omega's hard cock and testicles. He fondled the latter while stroking the former, feeling his balls draw up close to his body as the contraction peaked and he reached orgasm. "Tell me what you need," he whispered.

John came hard onto the bed and Sherlock's hand, his hips jerking as Sherlock stroked him through it. He panted roughly, the throes of orgasm distracting him from the pain in his abdomen at least momentarily. "I... can you... check how... dilated I am? Please?"

"Yes, yes," Sherlock replied, letting go of John's soft cock and wiping it on the sheets before slipping it inside his opening. He winced in disappointment as he found that John was only just halfway there, his muscles still clenched tight and unrelenting. He relayed the information to John, massaging his hip as he did so.

John groaned and ran his hands down his face. "They're never going to come. I'm going to be stuck pregnant until I die or explode, whatever happens first!" John sobbed. He sniffled and held his hands up. "I need to be vertical, gravity will help bring them down."

"I won't let that happen, love," Sherlock soothed, wiping away a tear before taking John's arms and hauling him to his knees. "Like this, or standing?" Sherlock was starting to get worried; he knew the birth would be difficult, but he'd hoped that it wouldn't have been so elongated, so painful. John was tiring, and it didn't bode well for either his mate or their children. "Are you sure there's nothing else that I can do?" There was an inkling in the back of his mind; John had longed for Sherlock to bring him off when labour began, and again just now, and both times it seemed to help the process progress. He shook the thought away and rubbed John's back.

John nodded and braced his hands on Sherlock's shoulders. "This is fine," he breathed, parting his knees. He took a few deep breaths before giving Sherlock a light shove, indicating to move. "Finger me. My arse, I... I need it, please, God."

Sherlock nodded silently, letting John brace himself against the headboard and hopping off the mattress to grab the tube of lubricant from the bedside table. He situated himself once more behind John on the bed, and after lubing up one long finger, he hesitated just a moment before pushing it inside, into the tight hole and wiggling it around to loosen up the muscles. He could feel it was tighter than usual, presumably due to the pressure of the baby against John's birth canal, so close to where Sherlock's finger was currently intruding. "Okay?"

"Oh, _yes_ ," John moaned, squeezing the headboard. "Move, move," he demanded. He cried out as a contraction gripped him, forcing the baby down. "Oohhh! God, it's moving along, I think," John panted, blowing through his mouth. His muscles clenched tight around Sherlock’s finger, making his cock stand at full attention already beneath his belly. "Don't stop!"

Sherlock gasped as he felt the pressure change with the contraction, John's body squeezing his finger painfully and making it impossible for him to move or even withdraw. God, how _tight_ that was, how tight would it be around his cock, _NO_ , that was not a thought that was allowed to occur. When the contraction finally released, Sherlock wasted no time in sliding a second finger to join the first, working them to scissor John open as much he could. "Jesus, John, I can feel it," he said, in awe as the baby working its way down pressed against the walls of his rectum.

John gasped as long violinist fingers worked him open, and he rocked his hips, to relieve the pressure in his pelvis, and to signal he wanted more. "Yes, _yes,_ keep going, open me up, Sherlock. So tight..." He remarked, feeling the tightness in his rectum as well, and Sherlock's fingers nudging against a head through thin tissue.

"Open you? Don't you...just prostate stimulation, correct, to override sensory pain?" Sherlock was confused. He spread his fingers as he thought, working to reach John's prostate, that John had no need for Sherlock to open him if he was just looking for prostate stimulation. The only reason John would want himself opened was...was for...

"Open me," John repeated with a growl, fucking Sherlock's fingers. He slipped a hand on the underside of his belly and howled as he contracted again, feeling unbearable pressure on his pelvis, but he knew the worst was yet to come. "So good, so fucking good." John howled in pleasure through the spasm, tossing his head back. "N... Need you..."

Sherlock's eyes went wide as John made known his need, could tell the difference between a howl of pleasure and one of pain and it was obvious that Sherlock's fingers in John's arse, rubbing against his prostate, was causing more pleasure than the pain the contractions gave. "John, do you...do you want me to _fuck_ you?" Sherlock asked, almost embarrassed to ask such a ridiculous question.

The contraction let go and John gave a cry of "Yes!", feeling his face flush. He was asking his mate to fuck him, as he was about to give birth. Would he be judged? Or perhaps Sherlock wanted the same? "Please, please, Sherlock, I need it, I need you, it _hurts,_ I--" _want to have our babies while you're fucking me_ , John wanted to say.

"God, thank god, yes," Sherlock roared in reply, and added a third finger in earnest. "God I want to fuck you but it's absurd, I didn't think you'd want that but god yes. Absolutely." He fucked John's ass with three fingers, hitting his prostate on every other stroke, his eyes rolling back as he imagined how tight it would be, how good it would feel to fuck John as he delivered their children.

John moaned eagerly, his legs shifting further apart. "Get... Get everything ready, the scissors, clamps... towels... Fuck." John needed it soon, but he didn't want to rush; they needed to be sure the babies would be properly cared for once they were born.

 "Oh. Oh right, of course," Sherlock mumbled, withdrawing his fingers with a certain degree of sadness and wiping the excess lube off on the towel. He grabbed the umbilical scissors and clamps from the medical kit and doused them in alcohol, laying them on a fresh towel beside where John was labouring on the bed. He made sure there were six or seven new towels there as well, and gathered other miscellaneous supplies before asking the all-important question: "How?"

John blew out through his mouth as he contracted, this one being the strongest yet, and he stroked his cock a bit to lessen the pain. "Gh... Oh, ff--" He cried out, his thighs trembling, and gasped when it ended. "Oh... Oh... On your... Back... Take off your f-fucking clothes..."

Sherlock shivered and hastened to comply, and when he was nude - and more than half erect himself - he climbed back onto the bed and situated himself underneath John, pulling up his knees and then sliding them between John's before planting his feet flat on the bed and gripping John by the hips. "Wh-whenever you're ready, John..."

John looked down to meet Sherlock's eyes, still gripping the headboard, and panted. God, he was ready, he was more than ready. Though he was a little nervous, hoping it wouldn't somehow hurt the babies. John blew out a few breaths. "I... Hold your cock, and I'll... Lower myself on." Once Sherlock did so, John slowly lowered himself, one hand on his belly. He felt the head of Sherlock's prick at his entrance, and bore down slightly as it sank in. John gave a strangled high-pitched gasp and his eyes shot open. Oh. My. God. "T... Tiiiiiight." He moaned.

"You're telling me," Sherlock groaned, feeling like his prick was in a hot vise. A deliciously tight, deliciously hot, almost painful vise. "You're sure you want this?" he asked, feeling once more silly but wanting to be more safe than sorry. He couldn't think of any way this might hurt the babies on their way out, it was more unconventional than harmful, but he thought perhaps John might be regretting his decision, based on the noises that were coming from his mouth.

John could only nod, staring down at Sherlock's face. He wasn't capable of forming words at the moment, both shocked and impressed by this feeling. He started to pant as he felt another contraction coming on and gripped the headboard tighter. "M-move!"

Sherlock grunted in reply and started to thrust slowly, gasping audibly as John's body contracted around him. With each thrust, John's belly brushed Sherlock's, tight as a drum and _hard_. Sherlock cried out as the contraction peaked, and he felt the baby's head move - quite significantly, he thought - into the birth canal. "Have to...have to check you," he grunted, and moved one hand from John's hip and slid it into his opening. "Yeah, oh god, you're ready, you're open, you can push, John," he groaned, starting up his rhythm again.

"Fucking... finally..." John grunted when he was relayed the news. He sucked in a breath and tried a hard push, his face going read as he held his breath and mentally counted down for as long as he needed to hold it. This pain matched with the pleasure of squeezing so tight around Sherlock's prick was absolutely incredible, and he gasped in amazement when he stopped pushing, not sure what to think of these dual sensations. "Oh my God, _Sherlock_!” John cried.

"God, _John,_ ” Sherlock shouted in return, forced to stop thrusting as John squeezed around him. "What's happening, is it working? Is it moving down?" When John and the contraction both let up, he started pounding into him again, hitting his prostate as often as possible and gripping his hips to hold him still.

John panted and leaned back on his hands, catching his breath. The baby had felt like it'd shifted down some. John nodded and lulled his head back as Sherlock pounded into him again. "Yes, love, keep going, like that..."

Sherlock kept up his rhythm and moved his hands from John's hips to his lower belly, feeling around for the baby's shape. "Feels...lower," he grunted, pressing against John's groin. He cradled the big belly in his hands as he snapped his hips upwards, rolling his eyes back at the feeling of John so tight around him.

John nodded, reaching down to hold his stomach with one hand, which felt much harder than it ever had been. He leaned back, feeling the urge to push start to build up again and cried out, bearing down with the sensation. John pushed as hard as he could manage, feeling his muscles make way for the infant making its way down. "O-oh, God... Sher--... com-ming down..."

"Yes John, that's it, push," Sherlock encouraged, trying to keep his hips moving as John clenched around him. Holy god in heaven, Sherlock could feel it now, could feel the baby's head and shoulders pressing against the thin membrane that separated the baby from Sherlock. It was terribly dirty, deliciously so, and he let out a low keen and kept thrusting.

John dug his nails into the underside of his belly and gave a yell, feeling the baby press against his opening. "Fuck... Fuck, it's there, it's right... there!" He panted in disbelief. The notion made his cock twitch, but he didn't have the patience to touch it. He didn't want to come yet, anyway. John looked down to Sherlock and breathed heavily. "Th... The head... I'm about to... push... Be careful..." He instructed, before bearing down again with a yell, his entire body clenching as it worked to bring the baby down and open himself so it could make its entrance. "Oh GOD, I feel it!"

Sherlock let out a roar and gripped John's hips hard enough to bruise, stilling his movements as the pressure increased and reached a level close to agony. "Jesus christ, John, keep pushing!" he shouted, and _felt_ it as the baby moved further down as John strained.

John could feel his perivaginal lips bulge and stretch as he pushed, pausing a moment to take a few quick, deep breaths. He started pushing again with a strangled cry, the baby's head slowly spreading him apart. "It's coming!" John shouted, gripping the sheet behind him, the other hand pushing down on his stomach for extra support.

Sherlock moved his hands to pry at the lips of John's entrance, spreading him apart as the baby's head crowned. "Just there, John, it's just there, another push and the head will be out, oh _god_."

John clenched around Sherlock's cock instinctively, taking a moment to catch his breath. He felt it, the baby at his entrance, the head just there and on its way out. "Sher... Y-you need to support its head..." He rasped. "Get ready, I'm... going to..." John sucked in a big breath and brought his chin down to meet his chest, before he pushed with a harsh cry, feeling the head slowly inch out, feeling each tiny feature exit him until it popped free, and he nearly collapsed in relief. "What... does it... look like...?" He panted, barely having a voice left to ask with.

Sherlock cradled the tiny head in his hands, clearing away wet blood as the baby started to whimper. "Dark hair," he breathed. "Dark hair, and your nose. Oh, John." Sherlock looked up at his mate, trembling with exertion and still on his cock. "Come on, you strong, brave man, it won't be long now." He shifted to hold the baby's head in one palm and grasped John's hand with his other, linking fingers and squeezing.

John gave a feeble chuckle, and happy tears rimmed his eyes at hearing just a few of his baby's features. He huffed, gripping Sherlock's hand, and held his breath as he gave a solid, firm push, knowing he'd need a lot of strength to pass the shoulders. He felt them slowly pop out one after the other, and released his muscles. John was disappointed when he couldn't see his baby over his belly, which had this one's sibling still inside. "Ready... to... catch." John ordered.

"Yes." Sherlock already had his hands supporting the baby, staring in awe at the tiny human already held partially in his arms. God, was this incredible. "Go on, with the next contraction, and you'll have your baby." Sherlock's arms were shaking but he held steadily onto the whimpering infant.

John took a few seconds to work up some energy, feeling invigorated that he would be meeting his first baby in just a moment. He gripped the sheets and arched his back slightly, not needing to give a very hard push at all, the baby sliding out into Sherlock's waiting arms. "Oh!" John cried out in surprise when the baby slid free, he looked down with wide eyes. "Is...is it okay? What is it, Sherlock? Girl or...boy?"

Sherlock pulled the baby up to his chest, umbilical cord sliding on his stomach, and looked up at John. "It's a boy, ten...ten little fingers and ten little toes. John," he laughed, "You have a son." He looked up with watering eyes and turned the baby so John could see. "Look, John, he's yours. Would you...want to hold him, so I can cut the cord?"

John didn't care enough to wipe his tears away, and automatically reached out to take the baby into his own arms, which he had to rest on his still swollen stomach. "Oh. Oh, God, look at you... So handsome, so perfect." John planted kisses on his wet head and openly wept in joy, watching as the little one scrunched his face and curled his limbs, and watching over Sherlock cutting the cord. "Ours, Sherlock, he's _ours_."

Sherlock looked up at John as he finished clamping, cutting, and tying off the umbilical cord, officially severing the baby from its nine-month home. He watched his exhausted, disheveled, and overjoyed mate look down at their first baby and couldn't help but smile. "What are we going to call him, John? What are we going to call our son?"

John thought for a long moment, looking down at the baby's face as he started to cry a little, exercising his lungs and expressing his distaste for being removed from his papa's belly. "What do you think of...Jasper? Jasper... Michael Holmes-Watson...?" John flicked his eyes up to meet Sherlock's looking for approval.

Sherlock grinned widely and nodded in agreement. "Fitting. I like it. Hello, Jasper," he murmured, lifting a hand to touch the baby's face. "Here, love, hop off a moment and rest." He didn't figure John wanted to sit on his cock until labour began again, and after that ordeal John needed his strength built back up.

John nodded and hissed as he slowly came up off of Sherlock's member, holding the baby close to his chest. He wasn't sure if Sherlock wanted him to move entirely, or if he was even capable of moving, and simply sat on Sherlock's thighs, taking slow, deep breaths to fill his lungs again. "Hello, love. I've got you, I know, it's a bit different out here," he whispered down to their whimpering son. "I've got you right now, Papa's got you, and Daddy, too. We're going to have to put you down when I have your brother or sister, but hopefully that won't be long, all right?"

Sherlock reached up to pull John off his lap ever so gently, conscious of the newborn John was holding and the fact that the man had just gone through several long, hard hours of labour and was understandably sore. He laid John on the soft mattress and then, pressing a kiss to John's forehead, reached for a towel to wrap the baby in. "There, that's a bit better, isn't it? Nice and warm and Papa's got you, hasn't he." He brushed a wet lock of hair out of Jasper's face and smiled as the baby snuffled.

John smiled gently and held the baby close and tight to his chest, kissing his wet hair repeatedly. "Yes, Papa's got you, I've got you," he murmured, "and we'll get you into some warm clothes once I have your brother or sister." John blew out a breath, knowing soon enough the contractions would start again and he would be doing another round. "I suppose I can feed you some. Would you like that, Jasper?" He guided the baby's mouth to his chest, waiting for the little lips to latch on, and John beamed before looking up at Sherlock.

Sherlock gave a wet smile as Jasper began to suckle, making little grunts as he nursed from John's breast. "There, that's good stuff, isn't it? Yes, Papa's good for that sort of thing. He'll take good care of you, little Jasper." Sherlock reached to take John's hand, the one that wasn't holding the baby, and squeezed it in his own. "And how are you? Can I get you anything? You must be exhausted."

John gave a tired grin and nodded. "Very exhausted. But I'm fine. Hopefully the next one won't take so much out of me." He smiled down at Jasper, who was seemed to be content with his meal. John blushed when he processed Sherlock's implied remark that his breast milk tasted good. "How much longer d'you figure it'll be...?"

"I don't know. It could be a few minutes, or an hour. It depends on the baby and your body." Sherlock rubbed the aforementioned bulge, now slightly diminished after the arrival of their first child. "Does it feel like the baby's engaged?"

John shook his head. "No, not just yet. Close, though. Low..." John blew out a breath and focused back in on Jasper, who had stopped sucking but moved his lips and hands lethargically. "That was good, wasn't it, love?" He cooed softly, wiping a drop of milk from his plush lips with his finger. John hissed as his body tensed, and he closed his eyes. "Might be soon."

"Okay." Sherlock took the baby gently from John, cradling his head and holding him close as he rose from the bed. He walked around the room, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, and murmuring to the infant as he tried to burp him. "Yes, little man, look at you. Little nose just like your papa, little ears just like him too. But you've got my hair, haven't you, you poor thing. You must be tired, coming into the world like that, hmm? Go on, give me a little burp and I'll put you down for a sleep. Yes, just like that, good man," Sherlock cooed as Jasper gave a milky cough. "Here, just here in the crib, Daddy'll lay you down and you can have a nice nap." He settled the baby into the bassinet and stood for a few moments, rocking it lightly and looking at John. "He's perfect."

John couldn't help but grin as Sherlock interacted with their newborn son, doing a good job of keeping him safe and loved, and showing affection. "Like you," John said, smiling and taking a few deep breaths. He curled his fingers into the sheets and exhaled with a grunt. "I think I'm... I think the head's engaged..."

"Oh. Oh, that was fast," Sherlock responded, and left the baby sleeping in the bassinet to rejoin his labouring husband. "Do you...want me...again?"

John huffed a few breaths and looked indifferent. "I... Not if you're not... _up_ for it..." John explained. He could only take so much from his alpha, and surely Sherlock was tired by now as well. "You don't have to. But... it helped."

"If it helped, I'm more than willing. I...you...didn't come, last time, so I can...bring you off, again, it should be easier since you're not in hard labour with this one yet." Sherlock gave a wan, uncertain smile and climbed back into bed, kneeling to press a kiss on John's belly. "Same way as before?"

John nodded. "I... Yes, same as before." His prick was already starting to harden again, remembering how it felt just minutes ago to have Sherlock inside of him while he strained to push out their child. He licked his lips and waited for Sherlock to lie down and be assisted to get in position on top of him, wincing.

Sherlock groaned as John sank down onto him again, his half-hard cock rapidly kicking back into gear as John's tight body surrounded him. He started to move almost instantly, wanting to get up a rhythm before the next contraction started. He let his hands rest on John's belly this time, feeling how much softer it was now that it was empty of half its' earlier load. "You're so strong, so brave, John."

John moaned, his eyes rolling back as Sherlock started pumping into him. "God... I'm just. I'm just doing what I was built for, Sherlock," he replied, both hands resting on his belly, which was low and fleshy. He blew out through his mouth and rubbed his stomach, feeling a contraction build up. "I think... I need to... push soon..."

"You're still open, push whenever you need," Sherlock grunted, snapping his hips up and thrusting into John. He could feel the pressure building, John's body tightening as it forced their second baby into his birth canal. As John started to rock with him, Sherlock moved his hand from John's belly to wrap around his cock, giving long strokes from root to tip as he moved.

John gasped and rolled his hips, his head tossed back as Sherlock stroked him, the pain building up. He brought his chin to his chest and braced himself with his hands, pushing down with a few primal grunts, this baby moving down easier that the first. He was wrapped even tighter around Sherlock's prick. "Oh, God!"

"Yes, John! That's it, that's it, oh!" The bulk of the baby's head was pressing against his prick again through the thin tissue, Sherlock was surrounded by incredible pressure on all sides as John pushed with the contraction. Though his cock couldn't move in or out, he continued to rock his pelvis, moving John rhythmically as he pushed.

John shouted as the contraction ended, and he felt the baby's head forced against Sherlock's member, making him unable to move. It still felt incredible, the pressure a bit more pleasurable this time, but that might have had something to do with his own cock being stroked. Sucking in a few breaths, John bore down again and moaned, the head starting to bulge out his vaginal lips.

"Oh, moving much faster this time, John," Sherlock panted, fingers of his free hand spreading his lips and brushing the baby's head. He continued to stroke John's cock and started once more to thrust in and out of John's body until the next contraction began and John pushed.

John panted heavily, pushing back onto Sherlock's member, and he bore down again with all of his strength, shouting as he stretched and the baby's head started to crown. "Ohhh, it's coming fast, Sherlock!" John panted through the burn that came with crowning, clenching around his mate's dick to distract himself.

"John! John, there it is, the head's almost out, just push a little more," Sherlock panted, working the man's skin around the head as John strained to push it out. Finally the baby's head broke free, and Sherlock quickly checked its neck for the umbilical cord before relaying information to John. "I...this one's got my nose, I think, and the hair's light brown. It's...god, it's perfect, John," he breathed, cupping the baby's head in his palm and wiping streaked blood from its cheek.

John whimpered, but had a light smile on his lips as he panted through his mouth. He felt relieved when the head broke free, a good amount of pressure gone, at least for the moment. John's belly was still a little bloated, and would be for a while after carrying twins, but if he leaned up enough, he could see the little dark head between his legs. "Oh, Sherlock," John breathed as the baby's features were listed. "Catch it, careful, I'm going to... push... he's a bit smaller, I think..." He muttered, feeling yet another contraction building up. After a moment, he bore down as hard as he could with a loud groan, that hopefully wouldn't startle Jasper too much, feeling the shoulders slowly stretch him open.

Sherlock patted John's quivering thigh reassuringly and then slid his hand to catch the baby as it emerged, one hand supporting the head and the other on the infant's shoulders. As John strained, the shoulders started to come free, and as the contraction waned Sherlock could tell it would just take one more push, and their second child would be born. John was right, this one felt smaller than the last, and as Sherlock looked up the baby started to whimper, letting Sherlock and John know that he was a little upset at his long-awaited entrance into the world. "Just one more push, with the next contraction, and you'll have your second child, John," Sherlock said softly.

Those soft whimpers made John's face light up, and he gripped the sheets before giving an excited push. He would be all done after this. John cried out as all pressure from his pelvic region was suddenly gone, and he felt completely _empty._ John looked up, trying to get a gaze at their second newborn. "What... What is it, are they all right...?"

"Yes, good, John, you've got another son. All limbs attached and...healthy," Sherlock pronounced as the newborn gave a wail. "Here, here, I'll give him to you to hold," he added with a chuckle, "and we'll take care of the afterbirth and then...then I'll bring you off like you wanted." Sherlock gave a minute thrust of his hips and carefully handed the squalling child to John.

John let out a soft moan as Sherlock gave that gentle thrust up into him. He felt as if he might have came just then. He was already so close. John cradled the baby close, giving him a gentle, loving smile. "Hello, hello, my love. Oh, it's good to finally meet you." He pressed a kiss to the newborn's head and examined his little features. "Handsome little bugger..." John looked to Sherlock with a bit of concern, his face scrunching up in pain. "I think... think the placenta's coming... Might want to... Get me off of you..." He said with a blush. He felt awkward enough, having just given birth _on top_ of Sherlock.

"I'm already irrevocably dirty, you're fine where you are." Sherlock returned, shaking his head and putting his hands on John's hips. "A little push with this contraction, you should be able to get it out easily. And then I'll get you moved and this little one wrapped up. There, that's a good man," he said, and caught the slimy afterbirth with not even the slightest grimace. He slid it onto a towel and balled it up, pushing it to the side and sitting up to help John move.

Now that the placenta was gone, John felt a bit odd. He was officially not pregnant anymore. All that would remain was some spotting for a few days, and a few more weeks of hormones before it was all out of his system and he was normal again. John winced, still sore from the ordeal, and pressed small kisses to the baby's face. "I... want to call him Samuel. Samuel Andrew," he muttered, as Sherlock shifted him around.

Sherlock kissed John's deflated belly as he eased him off his still-erect cock, taking care to be gentle and not jostle the newborn in his mate's arms. "Samuel it is. And well done, John. You were incredible." He laid towels on the wet spots on the bed as he slid off, and handed a soft blanket to John to wrap the baby in. A quick check of the crib reassured Sherlock that their firstborn was still fast asleep, and he made quick and quiet work of disposing of the afterbirth.

John sighed in relief as he lay back on the bed, shushing the crying baby in his arms, who was hiding his face in his Papa's chest to shield his eyes from the lights. "I know, I know," John cooed, wrapping the little one up in the blanket. "There you go, Sam, good lad." He moved the baby down to his chest, where he started to whimper around John's nipple as he nursed, gradually calming down.

"Mm, someone's a little upset," Sherlock remarked as he reentered the bedroom. "How are you? I can get you a paracetamol, now that you're through labouring," he said quietly, knowing John must be positively aching after so many hours spent working to deliver their children. He could see John's erection from where he stood, hardly waning even as their second baby nursed. He'd take care of that, as well, as soon as Samuel went to sleep.

John hasn't even noticed that he was still hard. But once he did, he didn't even notice that he was still in pain, though he knew he would still be sore later. "Yes. Paracetamol would be good," he relented. John shifted the baby a little who was sucking in earnest, and was only now snuffling, pleased with the warm milk and growing tired. "He's had a long day. We all have," John said, giving Sherlock a small smile.

"You more than the rest. Their days have just started; you've been working to start them for hours. I'll be right back." Sherlock smiled and padded into the bathroom to fetch a glass of water and two pills, which he handed to John upon his reentry. "Is little Sam done?" he asked, nodding to the snuffling baby.

"I can't take all the credit," John said softly. He nodded, popping the pills into his mouth, then taking the glass of water to down them. He swallowed roughly, then gently pulled Samuel away, who cooed contently before giving a soundless yawn. "There we go. That was tasty, wasn't it?" He brought the little one to his shoulder and rubbed his back until he gave a milky burp, and John smiled. "Good boy. In with your brother now, all right?" John gently handed Sherlock the baby to take over to the crib.

Sherlock took his son with a soft smile and carried the now-quiet baby over to the crib, laying him down with his brother. Inspiration struck and he puttered around the room until he located his mobile, and snapped several photos before setting it down and returning to his husband. "Thank you," he murmured, kissing the corner of John's upturned mouth.

John grinned even wider, leaning into Sherlock. "No. No, thank you. You really didn't have to do all of... that." John said with a blush, referring to the sex-whilst-giving-birth-on-his-husband. The thought made his cock twitch in interest again, not that it had softened at all.

"Trust me when I tell you," Sherlock murmured, "That I wouldn't have had it any. Other. Way." He grinned and slid a hand down John's side, ghosting over the pooch where their children used to be and hesitating just a moment before wrapping his fingers around John's cock. "Now, I told you I'd take care of you, and I intend to do just that," he intoned, stroking lightly. "How would you like me to fulfill my promise?"

John's toes curled and he gasped in pleasure, his eyelids fluttering. "God," he moaned, digging his fingers into the sheets. His skin was sensitive everywhere, and he was absolutely swimming in hormones and endorphins. "Suck me off. Please."

Sherlock nodded and moved down the bed, sliding between John's legs and hardly pausing before he licked a stripe up John's cock. God, he tasted even more pure, coated with sweat from his exertion and putting out positively intoxicating pheromones, meant for Alphas to protect their weak and vulnerable Omega. He wasted no time in taking John's hard prick into his mouth, flattening his tongue against the base and pulling him in as deep as he could go.

"Fuck, Sherlock," John groaned, making a point not to be too loud and startle the babies. He rolled his hips a little and bit his lip, knowing it would only take just a bit more to set him off. "Yes, Sherlock, just like that." God. His mate's mouth was absolutely perfect. He looked down to watch Sherlock, with his perfect lips around his cock, bringing him ever closer to orgasm. "You're so bloody _hot_..."

Knowing how close John was - as Sherlock was on the edge himself - he didn't tease, trying to bring his mate off as quickly as possible without making it seem like he didn't want to do this; because _god_ , did Sherlock ever want to please John. He sucked hard, and then drew back, flicking his tongue into John's leaking slit and tasting his salty pre-come. As he sank back down, he hummed softly, low in his throat.

John was off like a rocket, erupting into Sherlock's mouth with a strangled cry. " _Yes_!" He shouted in pleasure, his hips jerking with each spurt of come into his husband's throat.

Sherlock swallowed down John's salty ejaculate, more than slightly proud that none of it leaked out the corner of his mouth. As John's cock gave its last twitch, Sherlock pulled off, and kissed the tip - sentiment - before looking up at his absolutely knackered mate. "Sleep, John. I'll take care of myself, and watch the...the twins." He cast a glance to the crib, smiling softly. "You need your rest."

John's eyes quickly flickered shut, but he shook his head. "No. No, I can..." But he ceased protesting as he lay down, and became all too comfortable. "Just... wake me up if they need fed. And get them into some warm clothes when they wake up. And... Sherlock. Take... good care of them." John gave a tired smile.

"Of course, John." Sherlock smiled back, pressed a kiss to John's dry lips, and whispered 'sleep' in the man's ear. He sat on the mattress and held John's hand in his own, slowly stroking his fingers through his short hair until John dropped off to sleep. He smiled as he stood and walked over to the crib, where their twin sons were sleeping peacefully, wrapped in soft blankets and bellies full. He gently rocked the bassinet, and a crooked smile lit up his face as he looked over his 'men', the three loves of his life.


End file.
